Young Love

And what does it mean
To write of young love
When all that is seen
Is crushed from above?

I think they should know
What comes of desire,
And where love will go
When passion does tire.

A song sang for her
Will soon leave her ears,
Though he thought never
It could disappear.

Heartbroken and sore,
Love is nothing more.
♠ ♠ ♠
I was bored, and my English teacher told me that boredom is the best time to create,